Page 66 of A Place in the Sun
‘More than friends by the sound of it.’
‘Enough,’ says Sebastian. ‘This is about team building, not insulting your boss and getting your P45!’
There’s a good-humoured ripple of laughter. I blush and glance at Sebastian, who smiles fondly. Same oldSebastian. Good-natured, and dependable. Not like Marco! I mean, who comes home having bought a cheap house in Italy, in a village we don’t know? The same man who wanted to buy a rabbit for Aimee’s first birthday so they could grow up together, but hasn’t thought through buying a hutch or looking after it. The same Marco who took me out to dinner and his card was declined. He was friends with the owner and went back to pay cash the next day. Wild, impetuous, impulsive Marco. He was different from anyone I had ever met. Until I met Giovanni, I think. And pull myself up. What has Giovanni got to do with any of this?
‘Reminds me of myself,’ I hear Marco’s voice. And I think of Stella … Suddenly the door opens and she’s standing there, in cut-off ripped jeans, her dark hair piled on top of her head, friendship bracelets around both wrists, and I wonder who gave them to her, where she’s been in life and who’s been there for her. She’s so like Marco. Wild, impetuous, impulsive Stella.
‘Thought you might like some help,’ she says, without pleasantries. There’s a murmur among the young men, and a young woman executive.
‘Grazie mille.’ I smile at her, and she walks through the group, coming to stand by me.
‘Welcome to La Tavola,’ I begin, and the room hushes. ‘Here at La Tavola, everyone is welcome. We treat everyone with respect, kindness and understanding. It’s where we gather to support each other,because eating is about so much more than just the food we put on the table. It’s about the experience and the people we share it with.’
‘No, no! You’ve taken my flour!’ I hear from the kitchen. ‘Yours is over there!’
‘You moved it!’
‘I didn’t move it, silly woman!’
Stella and I smile.
‘I think it’s time you met your tutors for the weekend,’ I say. Stella and I lead them into the kitchen, where flour is flying everywhere. ‘This isla cucina, the kitchen, where you will cook with your tutors, work together and prepare dinner for each other. As I say’ – I try to keep a straight face, but struggle – ‘it’s all about working together.’
‘Buongiorno,’ say the threenonnas politely, boldly riding out their appearance: they have flour all over themselves, their hair, over their aprons and on their bottoms, where they’ve wiped their hands.
‘Perhaps you should introduce yourselves and split into three teams,’ I suggest.
‘This is going to be amazing!’ Sebastian whispers, from where he’s standing behind me. I can feel his breath on my neck. It’s not unpleasant. In fact, it’s quite nice. ‘Good job, Theally. I knew this weekend would be the real deal with you behind it. You always did give a hundred and ten per cent! Realnonnas.’ He chortles. ‘Inspired!’
‘I’m Walt, here for the wine,’ says tall, blond, good-looking Walt. ‘And the ladies.’ He looks at Stella, who doesn’t return his smile, and gives him her resting bitch face, which seems to pour cold water on his over-confidence as intended.
‘You can be with me, Walt. We are making panzanella. With ripe tomatoes, cucumber and bread. Smell!’ Nonna Teresa thrusts a tomato under Walt’s nose. ‘It will be the best you’ve ever had.’
‘It will be the best if he makes it and not Teresa!’ says Nonna Rosa, and the room laughs. Walt goes to stand by Nonna Teresa.
‘I’m Daisy, also here for the ladies.’ She gives Stella a smile and gets the same resting bitch face. She gives Walt a look – there’s clearly rivalry between them.
‘I’m thinking you two should be together,’ I say.
‘No, no, not a good idea,’ they respond. ‘That’ll never work.’
‘I’d be better on desserts,’ says Daisy.
‘Okay, but tomorrow you’ll all be swapping around,’ I say, and make a note to put those two together and watch the flour fly between them. I glance at Sebastian, who clearly knows what I’m thinking and grins.
‘I’m Charlie, here for the eating.’ He’s in a T-shirt, long shorts, straw trilby and sunglasses. He rubs his wobbly tummy and the group laugh.
‘You come with me. I’ll make sure you are never hungry,’ says Nonna Lucia, pulling him into her team.
‘Glenda,’ says a woman with glasses, her hair tied back. She’s in a suit and smart trainers and is clearly hot. ‘Here because I was told to be! And I can’t afford the time away from my desk.’
Eventually eachnonnahas two team members. Just Sebastian is left.
‘You can work with Stella and me,’ I say. ‘We’re onantipasti.’
‘My favourite.’ He smiles and it feels nice. He rolls up his sleeves, and the rest of the groups are being given a flurry of instructions.
We’re standing side by side in the kitchen while Stella gets theantipastiingredients from the pantry, the sunlight streaming in through the window and the sounds of the children in the courtyard. I suddenly feel completely at peace.
